


Long Distance Dedication

by JanxAngel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanxAngel/pseuds/JanxAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean & Sam are trying to find Castiel after the angels fell.  Dean & Sam POV and Castiel POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance Dedication

**Author's Note:**

> Currently this hasn't been beta'd, so forgive me if it isn't too polished.
> 
> Inspired by a thing I saw on Tumblr.

It had been days.  Days since the stars had seemed to fall out of the sky.  Days since he barely stopped his brother from sacrificing himself, and days he had spent trying frantically to keep him from dying while the aftermath of the divine forces imbued in him by the trials worked their way out of his body.  He hadn’t much time to spare to worry about where the other, angelic, part of his family was or how he was doing.

Two weeks.  It took almost two weeks until finally Sam was not only no longer in danger of dropping dead, but actually starting to look better.  He slept through the night, the dark hollows under his eyes had almost faded away, though Dean worried that they would never completely disappear.  Two weeks with no word at all from Castiel, or any angel for that matter.  He probably wouldn’t have been happy to see any of them but Cas, however the situation was drastically different from what it had been, so there was a chance one of them knew something and would be willing to help.

Three weeks after the fall, Dean and Sam were both getting very worried.  No word from Cas, no leads from any contact of theirs that would have a chance of having seen him or even knowing what he looked like to keep an eye out for him.  Dean paced the bunker, stalking between the tables of the library like a caged lion.  Sam had books and his laptop open, researching for any clues that might lead them to where he landed.  They had tried to summon him as soon as Sam was well enough to help Dean with the spell, but no one arrived.  Sam reasoned that it was possible he lost his powers and couldn’t just appear.  Dean agreed.  They both avoided thinking about what else could cause that result.  

It was Dean who actually hit upon the idea.  He had gone into town for more groceries, despite Sam’s protests that he was fine now, and had been listening to the radio for a change, when he heard the DJ giving a song dedication over the air.  When he returned, he immediately ran inside and began to tell Sam about his plan.  They would email every radio station in the country with a request line a dedication.  Sam agreed that it was actually a good idea to try and reach someone when you didn’t know where they were, the problem was coding the message in such a way that Castiel would understand who it was from and what was meant, while not giving themselves away or putting Cas in danger either.  They worked for two days on which songs to request from each kind of station and what the message accompanying them would be before they started sending them out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now we’ve got long distance dedication coming up,” the DJ chuckled.  “This one goes out to Cas, from the one you left your mark on.  Not sure what that means, but here’s the song they requested just for you; Motley Crue with Home Sweet Home.”

Cas wasn’t completely sure of what he had just heard from the radio playing in the hot, noisy, kitchen that he was currently working in, elbow deep in suds while washing dishes.  He asked the waiter who had stopped to flirt with the cook if he had caught it.

“Oh yeah, that!  I heard that there have bunches of stations all over the en-tire country that have been playing stuff like that!  The rumor is that there is some guy somewhere trying to find his lost girlfriend, but some people say he’s looking for a family member.  Something like that.  Anyway isn’t it just too cute?”

Cas nodded at him and went back to his work, trying to catch as much of the song as he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was six weeks after they started sending the dedication requests when all of a sudden, one of Dean’s phones chimed with a text message as he was watching the small TV they had brought in, the colors of Adult Swim painting the walls with ghostly light, while Sam dozed in a chair with a book on his chest.  An unfamiliar number, and the message only had a set of coordinates in it, but it was signed with an angel emote. 

They were out the door and kicking up gravel from the Impala’s tires in less than five minutes, roaring into the north.  Sam vaguely put the suggestion forth that it could be a trap, since their plan had gotten some attention, but they were both so eager to believe that they had found Castiel at last that they quickly pushed it aside.  Even so, the only reason it had taken even as long as it had for them to get into the car was loading the trunk with weapons and charms.  Stupid hunters didn’t live long.

They pulled into the parking lot of a little roadside diner near Grand Rapids, Minnesota about 10 hours later, the sun having made its way into mid-morning.  Dean looked at Sam, “You sure this is the place?”

“Yeah Dean, I checked it twice.  This is it.”

“So he’s been sitting in a diner for almost three months?”

“Well…  It is Cas.  I mean, he does things like that.”

“I guess, but, I think that’s a little weird even for him.  Unless, he like, hit his head or something?  You don’t think he’s all,” he flailed his hands a little, “loopy again, do you?”

“He texted us, so probably not.  Hopefully.”  He looked at the GPS again, just to be sure.  “Only one way to find out though,” he exhaled, opening the door.

“Guess so.  You ready in case we get jumped,” Dean asked, opening his own door.

“Yeah I’m good.  Let’s head inside.”

Once they got inside and seated in a booth near the door, they decided to order.  If it was a trap, the smart money was on it being sprung before food came out, since the types they dealt with weren’t likely to be the kind that cooked.  One lumberjack special and one omelet with side of fruit later, Dean and Sam were both pretty certain the place was legit and figured it was a good time to start asking around after Cas.

“Excuse me miss,” Dean started as he waved over the waitress to refill the coffee a third time.  “My brother and I, we’re looking for someone.  Our cousin.  We got a lead that he might be around these parts.  Have you seen anyone new in the last couple months or so?”

“Dark hair, light eyes, about six foot,” Sam chimed in.  “He may have had on a suit and tan coat when he first arrived?”

The woman looked at them, as if sizing up their intentions.  “Maybe.  We got a lot of people come through here being right off the highway and all.  Why are you looking for him?  He in trouble or something?”

“No, no trouble, just,” Dean hesitated for a moment before plunging on.  “His family is worried about him.  He just vanished one night and no one could find him, his phone kept going to voice mail.  We called everyone we knew, but no one had heard from him.”

“This is the first lead we’ve had in weeks,” Sam added solemnly.  “We drove all night to get here, just to be sure, so please, if you’ve seen him or think you have, or even know someone who might have, please help us.”

“What’s his name then,” she sighed.

“Well we call him Cas, but there’s no telling if he’s using a fake name or not.”

“You got a picture?”

Sam pulled a print of the picture they had extorted from the Ghostfacers out of his bag.  They hadn’t been aware that Castiel had visited them before, but while digging the very rock bottom of the barrel for leads, it had come to light.  He handed it over to the woman with an apologetic look, “Sorry its not great.  Had to pull it from a home movie.”

She shrugged, then frowned as she looked down at the image.  “Oh.  I think that’s Bud.  Pretty sure.  Different clothes and Bud has a beard.  I’ve only met him once, when I covered a night shift for Terry.”

“Bud,” Dean deadpanned.

“Yeah,” she replied.  “He’s the night dishwasher and busser.  Real quiet.  At first I thought he was kind of creepy, or maybe a bit slow, but the night manager told me he was really smart, he just doesn’t like to talk very much.  He wasn’t trying to stare at my boobs all night, so that was a plus,” she joked while gesturing to her ample bosom.

Sam snorted and Dean grinned a little as he replied, “Yeah that sounds like him.”

“You said he was night shift,” Sam verified.  “What time would he be getting here?  Would anyone know where he lives maybe?”

“Well, night crew comes in around 8 to help recover from dinner, and stay til between 4 and 5 when the daybreakers come in to start running breakfast.  Manager would probably know what address is on his papers.  Don’t know if she’ll tell you though.”  She handed the picture back to Sam.  “I gotta get back to work, so if you need anything else, just wave ok?”

“Thanks,” Dean called after her before turning back to Sam.  “So do we want to show up again tonight and get some sleep in the meantime, or do we turn this town inside out and try to find him?”

“Well, its like 11 now, so if he is working nights, and lost his powers, he could be asleep himself.  Even if he doesn’t need to sleep, he likes TV.  You heard what the waitress said; he’s not talking to people.  Without his powers, he’s gonna hole up and keep to himself.  Unless we ran across someone who actually knows him, chances are low of finding him on the street.  This town isn’t that big, but its still a lot of ground to cover when we don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe.”  Dean gets lost in his thoughts for a few minutes before starting to life again.  “Dammit!  We’re so close.”

“We can show the picture around?  See if there’s a park or something?  He likes parks, if they have flowers and stuff.”  Sam sighs as he tucks the picture back in his bag.  “Honestly Dean, as much as I want to find Cas, I think we should just get some sleep and not wander around town when we know where he’s going to be later on.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right Sammy.  Even if Cas still has his mojo, there are a couple thousand pissed off siblings wandering around on earth.  No telling what they would do if they found him, being a known rebel and all.”

“Good reason to lay low I’d say,” Sam opined.

“Ok.  Let’s find a place to take a nap and come back later.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

He lays in the dark, in the quiet and warm space he’s created for himself in his little room with the extra curtains over the windows so he can sleep during the daylight hours between shifts at the diner.  He had left early, saying that he didn’t feel well.  It was true.  He had been wrestling with the decision on whether or not to contact the Winchesters for weeks since he had realized what the message on the radio was.  Just the week before, he had taken a little bit of the money he had saved and bought the cheapest cell phone he they had at the local store, then stared at the screen for hours before putting it away.  A scene he repeated every day.  He knew he couldn’t hide forever.  At some point, someone was going to find him, either them or his siblings. 

It had been nice though.  Getting used to living as a human in this place.  It was easier than he expected, and the people had been pleasant with him as he made mistakes navigating his new existence.  No one asked too many questions either.  The job was easy enough to pick up how to do, and someone had assisted him with finding a place to sleep he could afford.  The grocery store was small and Betty, the owner, had been very kind in showing him what basic items he would need to get along.  Microwave meals were the main part of his diet.  He knew it probably wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t have a desire to risk burning the place down.

That time would end if he called them though.  The generally peaceful life he had built would be torn apart by the thundering arrival of the Impala through the streets.  He hadn’t been sure if they would want him around anymore after that night.  Even with the message from the radio, he still wasn’t sure.  Dean had said that without his powers he was a baby in a trench coat.  He supposed there was some truth to it really, but what use would they have for him now, being even weaker than before?  His gut had been getting more and more twisted and churning the longer he thought about it. 

He knew he had to face his responsibility.  He was responsible for trying to fix his home and in the process, making everything many, many times worse.  No matter what state he was stuck in now, it was still his responsibility to do his best to clean it up, or die trying.  He wasn’t ready.  Wasn’t ready to leave, wasn’t ready to face them, wasn’t ready to deal with life outside the tiny bubble he had created around himself. 

It was late when he finally decided.  He wasn’t ready, no, but he was never going to be ready just hiding.  He would just send a message of his own and see if they came for him.  Then he would be sure that they really wanted him back.  As he hit send, his stomach finally settled and he was able to fall asleep, surprised at how easy it claimed him, even as he slipped under.

Cas awoke to his phone ringing.  He hadn’t intended to sleep so long, at least getting up for a bit during the day, but it seemed the weeks of worry had drained him more than he realized.  He grabbed the phone to hear Buzz, the night manager’s, voice, asking where he was, if he was still sick, if he was coming to work that night.  He assured him that he would be on his way in a moment and hung up.

It was with a start he realized that if they had come, if they really meant for him to join them again, they could be in town already.  He had worked out the distance from town to the bunker when he had first arrived, when he still thought about going on his own, before deciding that taking some time on his own would be best, though if he was being honest, he knew he was just hiding from everything.  The map program said about 12 hours of drive time, but with Dean behind the wheel it would certainly be less. 

They could be waiting at the diner for him, since those were the coordinates he sent.  He would walk up and see that big, black monster Dean called a car sitting in the little dirt lot.  He wonders if they waited all day, or just asked around.  Maybe they came and left.  Maybe they decided it wasn’t him after all and went home.  Maybe they didn’t come at all.  His chest hurt oddly at the last thought.  He had to know now.  Had to be sure once and for all where his life was headed.  He got dressed and headed out the door as fast as he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They found a room available at the motel just down the street from the diner to sleep away the day.  There were a couple of funny looks until Sam stepped in with his superior people skills and explained their situation.  Once they got their room, being hardened veterans of motel living, both of them easily fell asleep on the clean and generally comfortable beds.

Sam woke Dean just before 7:30.  “Hey, might want to get up if you still want to catch him before he gets to work.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m up,” Dean groaned. 

Sam grinned.  “Sure.  Admit it Dean, you have never been happy about getting up.”

“Well are you ever happy when I get you out of bed Sammy,” Dean asked, running his hands over his face and hair.

“Point.  Anyway, let’s go get Cas back.”

Dean nodded and started lacing his boots.  Neither one of them would say it.  It hung in the air like the bitter scent of burnt coffee.  The possibility that this might not actually be Cas.  Might be someone else who knows them, might still be a trap of some kind, might be Cas’s body, but a different mind.  They both knew that Jimmy was long gone, but once a vessel…

They decided to walk to the diner since it was so close.  They thought that the Impala taking up so much space might be overdoing it, but the underlying reason was that if it wasn’t Cas, they didn’t want to tip them off that the Winchesters were waiting for their arrival.  They stood in front, under the awning that hung over the front of the building, near the corner that faced the motel and waited.  It was getting dark before they began to wonder if he was coming to work that night. 

“The waitress from this morning said eight, right Sam?”

“Yeah.”  Sam shook his head.  “I dunno man.  I don’t want to give up here, but I’m wondering if he’s gonna show.”

“We’re staying.  That’s all there is to it.  Even if we have to drink a pot of coffee each, we are not going to risk missing him.”

“Easy Dean, geez.  I wasn’t saying we should leave, just, maybe we can move inside?  I am getting kind of hungry,” he finished, looking at his brother mournfully.  “People are starting to stare too.”

Dean stared at him, determined not to let him win, before he finally broke.  “Fine.  We wait til nine, if he’s still a no show then, we’ll go inside.”  He shot Sam a dirty look.  “And don’t gloat.  I just don’t want to get arrested for loitering.”

They stood in silence for a long while, both pairs of eyes roaming the area around them, looking for anyone who might be Castiel.  Sam looks at his watch, sees it is actually after nine, turns to tell Dean, then stops as he catches something over his brother’s shoulder.  Before he can speak, a familiar, deep voice comes out of the shadows instead. 

“Hello, Sam.  Hello, Dean.”  Cas steps out from around the corner.  “I wasn’t sure if you were here.  I didn’t see your car.”

“Holy shit Cas,” Dean gasps.  “I hate to say it man, but you look like crap.”

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Sam added.  “Mainly the beard.”

“I wasn’t inclined to discover shaving on my own.”  Cas smiled slightly at them.  “I am glad to see you are well again Sam.  I also wasn’t sure if you would actually come.”

“Why wouldn’t we Cas?”

“Dean, I… made a mess of things.  The angels falling.  It was my fault.  I should have listened to Naomi.  Should have believed her when she told us Metatron was lying.  When I arrived in Heaven, Naomi was dead, and Metatron,” he stopped, shifted his gaze to the dirt at his feet, and took a shaky breath.

“Cas, its ok.  Whatever happened, we can fix it.  That’s what we do right,” Sam reassured, gently placing a light hand on his shoulder.

“Metatron stole my grace.  It was the final thing he needed to complete the spell and cast everyone out.”  He looked up at last, preparing himself for their reactions.  He expected anger, or maybe exasperation, perhaps even a shred of sympathy if he was truly lucky, but he didn’t at all expect what he got.

“Oh Cas,” Sam exhaled.  His face was etched with horror.  “I can’t.  I can’t even begin to understand how, how that would feel.  I mean, I’ve been through some shit, but.  That is just.  Wow.  I’m so sorry.”

Dean looked sick, then, saying nothing, reached out and hugged him tightly.  “This was not your fault Cas,” he rumbled after a minute before thumping his back and letting him go.  “What reason did you really have to believe her over him?  After everything she did to you?  The last time you had seen her, the bitch killed a whole restaurant of innocent people, after admitting that she had scrambled your brains.  Then she comes winging in out of nowhere, spewing all this crap about realizing she had lost her true purpose, offering you a way back in, saying Metatron is up to no good, and just expects you to believe her?  Damn it Cas, you can be naïve sometimes, but that, that was like a wasp asking you believe it doesn’t sting.”

“I wish it was that simple Dean.”

“I think it is that simple,” Sam stated.  “You got tricked by a guy who has probably been plotting his revenge for centuries, right after you broke out of fucking _mind control._   You want to believe people, especially your siblings.  You wanted to do right by them, try to figure out a way to stop the fighting, do whatever it took to fix your home.  Geez Cas, you’re already better than most of them ever could be, just for caring so much.  Yeah, it may have gotten you in trouble, but the point is that you have never, ever, given up.  That’s why you’re one of us, man.  Right Dean?”

“Absolutely Sam.”

Cas just sighed.  “I don’t see it the way you do I suppose.  All I can see is that not only did I fail to achieve any of my goals, I also caused every angel left in Heaven to be forcefully thrown out and a creature whose ego can only be described as enormous to the point of also questioning his sanity left in charge of it.”  He heaved another weary sigh.  “This is nothing less than I deserve for my dismal failure.”

“Working in a greasy diner in the middle of nowhere?  Why didn’t you just call us Cas?  Even if we couldn’t have come ourselves, we’d have found someone to pick you up and bring you home.”  Cas began to take a breath, but Dean cut him off.  “I know you’re gonna say your home is on lockdown, but you’ve got to know you always have a home with us.  I told you that you’re family and I still mean it.  Family means you care, no matter what.  Even if you’re angry, even if things go wrong, even if you just have to take time on your own, you don’t stop caring.”

“Yeah, Cas.  You have a place to go down here on earth, anytime you need it.  No one is perfect.  I know that better than anyone, so we’re not going to turn you away just because you got played.”

“This is, much more than I dared to hope for,” Cas replied.  “I was worried that you would be angry with me, or wouldn’t come at all.  After I heard the radio, I still wasn’t sure.  Yet, here you are.  You still call me family and are still willing to give me a place to belong.  I hadn’t realized, just how lonely, my life here has been.”  His eyes had tears pricking at the corners, just visible in the light from inside the diner.  “I am, ready, to go home.”

They both smiled at him and clapped him on the back lightly.  “You need to pick up anything before we go,” Sam asked.

“I should change back into my regular clothes, give back the uniforms, and tell them I will not be back.  They were nice here.  I will also have to tell Ms Jackson I am leaving.”

“Ms Jackson,” Dean leered.  “I thought you said you were lonely.”

“Dean,” Sam began before Cas jumped in, “Ms Jackson is my landlady.  She is 67 years old, has a cat named Foul Ol Ron, and does my laundry for $5 a week.”

“So, without your grace, that means you’re, human now, right?  Have to do all the regular stuff humans do?”

“That is correct Sam.  There are many things I still do not know how to do, but I have been able to pick up enough to get by so far.  Though I tend to think I am not living as well as I could be because of it.”

“That beard says it all man,” Dean joked.  “You look like you lost weight too.”

“Look Cas, we don’t have to hit the road tonight.  Maybe we can hang around a day or two, let you get things together, say goodbye to people.”

“Yeah, Sam’s right.  Seems nice and quiet here.  Day or two should be fine.  Don’t leave your boss hanging.”

“Thank you. That would be nice.  I would like to be recalled kindly after I’m gone.”

They all went inside, Dean & Sam to eat some dinner, Cas to finish up the dinner dishes.  Buzz spoke with him gruffly, having seen him standing outside for a while, but softened up a bit when he explained what was going on.

Two days later, Buzz had hired a new night dishwasher and busser, though he was sure he wouldn’t be able to really replace him.  Cas also had said his farewell to Betty at the grocery and finally turned in the key to his room to Ms Jackson, petting Foul Ol Ron on the way out.  Sam had tried to pet the cat as well, and was rewarded with a swipe of claws for his trouble.  “He doesn’t like men, except for Bud there,” she chuckled.  Sam smiled weakly as he followed Cas out the door.

“We finally ready to hit the road,” Dean asked, impatient as ever.

“Yes Dean, we can go.”

Sam said nothing as he went around to the passenger side of the Impala. 

“Hey Sammy, Cas gets shotgun this trip, what do you say?”

“Sure,” he grinned, opening the back door instead.  “All yours Cas.”

“Hey, I’ll even let you pick what to listen to for a little bit, OK?  None of that crap they call pop though.  There will be no Taylor Swift in this car.”

“Of course Dean.  Thank you, Sam.”  He slid into the front seat, and pulled out the box of tapes from under it, rifling through for something that looked appealing, while the engine roared to life beneath the hood.  With a small smile, he pulled a tape from its case and popped it in the deck.  “I didn’t think you would have anything like this in your collection.” 

“Yeah well, sue me for having a little variety.”

As the passionate chords of Johnny Cash tumbled from the speakers, they pulled onto the highway and at last, headed for home.

 


End file.
